<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some of the\nmost tender childhood memories of my maternal grandmother are of us sitting on\nthe front lawn eating watermelon. \u201c\u2018Uelita\u201d, as we used to call her, would\nslice up a chilled watermelon, place it in her green Tupperware bowl and hand\nus all a slice as we sat around on the lawn on hot summer evenings. Abuela, Abuelo,\nmy parents, uncles, and aunts would sit in their colorful lawn chairs talking\nabout random subjects. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Most often, they\nspoke of memories of life back in M\u00e9xico or the relatives they left back in\nTexas. I recall the cool, juicy sensation of watermelon in my mouth as I sat on\nthe grass fighting off summer mosquitoes surrounded by a circle of aunts and\nuncles, as the cousins and I sat eating watermelon–listening to family history.\nThe warm feeling of togetherness will forever linger in my memories of\nchildhood summers at Abuela\u2019s house eating watermelon. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Abuela was a\nwoman who exuded quiet fortitude through many examples of sacrifice and perseverance\nand managed to forge a foundation for our family that includes a merging of two\ncultures. The traditions she brought with her from her early life in M\u00e9xico and\nthe new traditions she established for us as she built her new life in\nCalifornia set a tone for generations to come. We are a family of five\ngenerations who in many instances represent bilingualism and examples of\ntraditions new and old. We owe these customs to \u2018Uelita who taught us the\nimportance of unity and valuing our roots. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\ntenderness associated with eating watermelon briefly turned to a bitter taste\nas an adult. In my late twenties, I became a mother for the first time. Abuela\nhad passed away a few years earlier and I longed for her presence during such a\nlife-changing moment. She always knew the answer to the most difficult challenges\nlife brought and knew how to make things right. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
One\nparticular afternoon while I was on maternity leave during my final month of\npregnancy with my first child, my mother and I walked into our hometown grocery\nstore. As we walked in through the automatic doors, Mami and I were engaged in\nconversation in our native Spanish when I heard one of the female employees\nsorting through produce loudly state across the produce aisle \u201cLook at this\none! She looks like she swallowed a whole watermelon!\u201d as she chuckled. The\nother female employee looked in my direction and said nothing as she continued\nstacking avocadoes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I recall the\nwarm sensation of rage and embarrassment flowing to my face. \u201cHow dare she?\u201d I\nthought as I pointed out the comment she made to my mother. Would this woman\nhave commented so loudly if she heard us speaking English? It was clear to us\nher comment was driven by the idea that we did not speak English and would not\nunderstand. The grocery store employee may not have realized implicit bias drove\nher comment. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Years later, I still encounter the question of my place of\nbirth when people hear me speak Spanish and when I tell them I am a native\nCalifornian they follow with \u201cyou speak Spanish so well I thought you were born\nin M\u00e9xico!\u201d As if somehow I am obligated to forget the part of me that\noriginates from Mexican immigrants and allows me to communicate with my\nparents. I hear this comment from English only and Spanish only speakers alike\u2014proof\nthat implicit bias is present in us all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I reflect\nback on an experience I had as a young parent navigating the school scene as my\nson began preschool. Since we did not qualify for the state funded preschool\nprograms at our local school district, we searched for privately funded options\nin our community. We settled on a parochial program that offered flexibility in\ntheir schedule that allowed our son to experience school by attending two days\na week. We wanted to offer our son the social interaction and structured day a\npreschool setting could afford. This proved to be such a belittling experience to\nour family I still shudder at the implicit bias present in my son\u2019s preschool\nteacher. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first\nsigns of a problem became apparent at the fall reporting period when we were\ninformed at the parent-teacher conference that my son would be held back\nbecause his \u201cSpanish speaking was interfering with his ability to learn.\u201d It\nwas both unnerving and incredible that a teacher who was in charge of our three\nyear old son had already decided that he did not have the ability to learn\nbecause he also spoke Spanish. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Needless to\nsay, we quickly moved him out of that school and enrolled him in a different\nprogram that not only embraced his bilingualism, but also had a head teacher\nthat was bilingual herself. She utilized Spanish to support our son\u2019s\nacquisition of the English language. This was an example of a truly inclusive\nprogram and I could not be more relieved to have my son in such a welcoming\nsetting. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a college\neducated woman and a mother, I am fortunate to advocate for my children through\nan informed lens. Had I been in a different situation in terms of social\nstanding, my son\u2019s educational journey may have ended differently. He is now a second-generation\ncollege student and is fluently bilingual. I want the opportunity of\nbilingualism to be available to every child as an asset and not a deficit. As\neducators, we have a duty to support and listen to parents who may not know\nexactly what their children\u2019s educational needs are, but who express concern\nover missing components in their learning. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a young\nwoman in my mid-twenties, I did not feel empowered by the need to speak up in\noppressive situations. Mostly because at that time I knew my emotions would get\nthe best of me and leave me coming across as an \u201cangry brown woman\u201d; a common\nstereotype of Latina women driven by their passion to improve the condition of\nthe communities they live in. Now, as a woman in my mid-forties and decades of\neducation framing my life experiences, I will not allow negative stereotypes to\nhinder my efforts to address inequities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I recognize\nthe existence of perspectives that view bilingualism in some as an asset and a\ndeficit in others. I realize the need to speak up and not empower ignorance\nthrough silence. The simple act of responding to a question or comment with an\nacknowledgement or an informed point sends an element of shock and dismay that highlights\nan act of ignorance or insensitivity with enlightenment. We now see highlighted\nthrough social media instances in which people going about everyday tasks are disrupted\nby individuals who believe they have the right to dictate the language others\nspeak. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Language is a personal mode of communication, a tool that people use to connect to others. Language is also a form of identity that defines the authentic self. Each individual has a right to draw from their toolbox to use the language and dialect they see fit to connect with the people with whom they interact and in the space they occupy. As a tool, language tailors to specific audiences–those who are most fluent can draw from their languages and dialects to communicate with others in the most appropriate fashion to convey messages and express their personal identity.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Some of the most tender childhood memories of my maternal grandmother are of us sitting on the front lawn eating watermelon. \u201c\u2018Uelita\u201d, as we used to call her, would slice up a chilled watermelon, place it in her green Tupperware bowl and hand us all a slice as we sat around on the lawn on Read More …<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/127"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=127"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/127\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":130,"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/127\/revisions\/130"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=127"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=127"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elltoedd.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=127"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}